Lotus Serenade || Mo Dao Zu Shi x Reader

| 三十七 |

──❝Sly Whispers of the Mischievous Mirage❞──

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A profound horror gripped [Y/n] as the grisly reality unfolded before her eyes. The entire clan lay massacred, a chilling tableau of death that permeated the air with a putrid stench, assaulting her nostrils and prompting an instinctive wrinkle of her nose in visceral disgust. Stepping onto the premises, she found herself surrounded by the lifeless forms of the once-vibrant members of the Chang Clan. Approaching a particularly motionless man, who leaned against the wall with a posture of final surrender, [Y/n] couldn't help but be drawn to the ghastly details. His head hung low, arms dangling lifelessly, and his once-vibrant hair now matted, entwined with dirt and dried blood, formed a macabre curtain that concealed his face and veiled his vacant eyes. An unsettling revelation gripped her as she contemplated the lifeless figure before her: "Huh? His eyes... They're white." Holding her breath, her heart resounding in her chest like a relentless drumbeat, [Y/n] cautiously inched closer to the deceased man. Her fingers clutched tightly onto her sword, every movement deliberate, and her senses acutely attuned to any potential sign of danger. With meticulous care, she conducted a thorough examination of the lifeless form, her gaze methodically sweeping over the grisly details. Once satisfied, she cast a scrutinizing glance across the area, noting with a shudder how the other bodies shared the same haunting condition of death's icy grip.      

Their forms bore a bluish-tinted skin undertone to their integument, with white eyes displaying a lustrous alabaster hue, while obsidian cracks traced a fractured path along their cervical expanse, resembling the shattered fault lines of porcelain artifacts. The manifestation was unmistakable, aligning with the descriptors ascribed to reanimated corpses, characterized by the bluish-tinted color of their skin covering. These formidable entities, known as fierce corpses, exhibited an awareness of their existential plight, akin to forsaken and inert marionettes, cognizant of their fragmented and lifeless state. The epiphany crashed upon [Y/n] like a relentless wave of sorrow, an overwhelming cascade of melancholy that cut through the very core of one's being. Reintegrating with the others, she felt a lump form in her throat, a tangible manifestation of the emotional weight that pressed down upon her. "Who on earth did this?" Wei Wuxian wondered aloud. 

The hairs on the nape of [Y/n]'s neck stood on end, sending shivers down her spine, signaling the presence of an unseen observer. Though [Y/n] keenly felt the weight of the observer's gaze boring into her, she restrained herself from turning around to meet their intense stare. At first, [Y/n] couldn't pinpoint who was watching her so intently, but as a feeling of dread and unease settled in her chest. Lan Wangji delicately elevated the fragment of the Yin Iron, cradling it with a graceful touch between his slender, refined fingers. As he did so, a subtle and enchanting warmth emanated from the metallic shard, causing it to radiate a soft, ethereal glow in the diminishing twilight. His discerning eyes, keen as a hawk's, narrowed with realization as he perceived the fragment's responsive reaction to an unseen force nearby. With deliberate slowness, he turned, his scrutinizing gaze sweeping through the surroundings until it settled upon a solitary figure draped in obsidian attire, lounging effortlessly on the rooftop behind them.